Breathless

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His call struck her as a ghost's would, haunting - because she knew not what his fate was. She worried for him, worried for all of the men that were trapped in Glaciem but his visage stuck with her. His amber orange gaze kept her from sleeping at times, sad and pained but so willing to be just where he was on her part. He had fought not for Valhalla, but for her - it was obvious, it made her stomach churn and her lips quiver. For how would the caring she felt for him ever equate to the love and loyalty he held to her for little to nothing in return? The woman would step toward the sound, her gaze wide, her heart filled with disbelief. Had he really found a way out of Glaciem? Had he been released? Had he fought? What would start as a slow, heavy walk would quickly turn into a sprint - she needed to know if Themisto was really there. If this was a trick, a lie, her guilt finally affecting her physically she would be sick - but in those moments that she ran, her feet barely touching the ground, there was hope.


"Themisto?!" She would call - only to come to a quick stop. Seeing him laying in the sunlight, he didn't seem real at first. The woman would blink, stepping forward with slight hesitance. But as she watched him, blinking, making sure that he didn't vanish as she opened her eyes again, she would see his heavy beathing and catch his fur glisten in the light - only for her lips to pull into a grin as she realized that he was indeed there. "Themisto, you're here. I-" She was at a loss for words, but she would step toward him, wanting to close the distance and and nuzzle his neck. "You're free?" Her question would hang in the air, the emotion seeming to pull the woman to a hault. If he was an escapee she would try to hide him, but perhaps there was hope for him being released from Glaciem's shackles.